


Porto Partay!

by She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named/pseuds/She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy’s Vine + my insomnia + my nutty self = this</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porto Partay!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me how I started writing this. You can blame my insomnia for it, I sure as hell do. By no means is this an insult or a criticism to my fellow writers who have written AU or kinkier stuff before.
> 
> Also this is fan-fiction, keyword being fiction.
> 
> No, it's NOT a watersports fic :)

For those of you who have insomnia you'll understand. For those that don’t you need to understand that at some point, on top of the physical exhaustion, your brain just gaves in. In the end, whether you fight it or not, want it or not your synapses and everything else around them shortcuts. It’s as simple as that. No lie. 

You find yourself cursing and sighing and rolling your eyes at anything and everything. You start biting people's head off and you end up agreeing and doing a lot of shit that normally you would never ever consider or approve off just for the sake of that 'yeah, yeah whatever just leave me the fuck alone' feeling. Well, the same thing goes for Tommy. 

His insomnia is being a pain in the ass lately and there is only so much one can do at night. He's done catching up and going out with or to his friends. He's done catching up on his favourite TV shows and must see movies, him and Bryan have finished recording their musical offspring, he's watched and re-watched everything he likes on Netflix. He's come full circle so to speak. 

One night he's been playing for a few hours and his fingers start to ache. Needing a break he goes through the Netflix menu again and nothing, absolutely nothing catches his eye. That's how, in the end, around 5 AM, he finds himself doing the unthinkable; he picks up his laptop, opens Google and goes in search of the latest fan-fiction. 

People didn't know this, well not until he answered a fan on his Facebook page anyway, but he actually reads fan-fiction. He started doing it during the end of Glamnation and somehow, every so often, he goes back to it. In a twisted, sleep deprived way, he likes it. It strokes his ego that people write entire stories about him. Sure enough, he often ends up rolling his eyes, or cursing out loud or making smart ass remarks as he goes cause let's be real here for a minute; in almost every story he ends up being the damsel in distress or some fragile little thing that needs to be saved or whatever. 9 times out of 10 he ends up having a monster dick up his ass - more specifically Adam's dick, well mostly Adam's. In some stories they turn him into a vampire. A fucking vampire! It's still weird and shit, but ... Vampires? Yeah! That's the cool and good kind of weird. And finally, some actually write this really weird fucking stuff where he actually gets knocked up! 

The first time he read an mpreg fic he almost chocked on his burrito. "The fuck is wrong with them freaks?!? It's bad enough I get my ass stuffed in every one of them, now they need to fucking stuff the rest of me up too?" He continued reading the story though, almost spitting out his beer when he gets to the actual labour part and he gives birth to triplets! Not one, not two, but three fucking babies! In his mind, the words has officially gone mad. 

His coffee comes flying out through his nose when he reads his first watersports fic because, well... You know, _watersports_  and the fic is about him and there’s this deep anchored parental alarm saying ‘dirty’ and ‘bad’ and ‘not done’ and shit.  It's not that he would ever judge someone who's into that, after all, to each his own. It's just weird, like really, really fucking weird. 

Tommy's going through the immense choice of new fics, deciding to go for the longer ones this time. He likes the simple fact that these longer ones are not all about getting fucked into oblivion. No, there's an actual storyline to them with depth and credibility and shit. He gets sucked in into a vampire story and liking how the writer wrote it he checks out another story from the same writer. He hits the jackpot with this one!

It has vampires and a werewolf, it has mating and claiming and fucking - obviously - and drama and lots of good written anxiety. It has a kidnapping and reclaiming once mate by pissing all over said reclaimed mate. It has male pregnancies and nursing and the best part: the tables in this story are reversed! He's the Alpha male and Adam's the damsel in distress, he's the one who gets to knock up Adam for a change and for that point alone, well not that alone but you all get the picture, he ends up giving - anonymous - kudos. When he finishes the story it's just past 10 AM and Tommy feels himself _finally_ being pulled under and falls asleep.

Four days later, his insomnia isn't exactly doing better. Although he slept some, it's not nearly enough to restore his body and brain back to a better functioning state. He's beyond tired and still, he's actually at the gym. Adam, that smug smartass - he's the one who started this fucked up chain of events - convinced him to go. "It'll do you good, you'll get to clear your head, let out some steam and naturally tire your body. You'll see man, you'll sleep like a baby after that."

Not wanting to take those damn sleeping aids, he gives in and that's how - after having run his miles - he finds himself in the gents locker room, cursing his head off because some nasty motherfuckers pissed all over the goddamn floor and toilet seat of every stall would you believe it and he badly needs to go! There's no way he can hold it till he's home and there are no plants around he could water whether it’s in here or outside near the parking lot because of the security camera’s.

He's stuck to doing his business here. Settling on the cleanest one, he puts his bottle of water on top of the toilet, positions himself and tries to block out the sight and the smell. A few deep breaths later he can feel the pressure building and looks down, making sure he aims right. The last thing he wants to do or be himself is one of them nasty sons of bitches who can hold their dick properly and mark their territory like a damn dog.

He does his thing, tucks himself away and is about to flush when he spots his water bottle and then...  BAM! Out of nowhere he gets this weird, not to mention bad idea. Imagines and memories fill his mind. Memories of a picture posted by Ashley while he was faking taking a leak. They had laughed their ass off as they went through their Twitter and Instagram mentions.

His water bottle has a red sport cap, the one which allows you to drink as you run without choking or getting your damn drink all over yourself. And oh yes, he's gonna do it! If it blows out in his face he’ll blame it on the lack of sleep or some side-effects from his sleeping aids. Whatever will seem more appropriate when the time comes. He walks over to the sink, washes his hands and fills his almost empty bottle. Staring at his reflection in the mirror he laughs wickedly at his own fucked up idea andbegins an actual conversation with that crazy dude on the other side of the mirror. "I'm fucked right? Like out of my goddamn mind fucked. 'S not my fault," he shrugs apologetically. "Adam's the one to blame remember!  He told me to come here, saying it would be good for me and shit. It's always Adam's fault! Hell, his fans turned it into a fucking popular hashtag on Twitter so that’s saying something. Right? Right!"

A filled bottle in his hand, he looks around checking if he's alone. He does have some form of common sense and gym bathroom etiquette before stepping back into the stall. He positions himself again, opens the cap and gives the bottle a good squeeze. Not pleased with the outcome he holds the bottle higher and squeezes again. He ends up shifting position of both himself and the bottle till he's found the perfect match and stores it in his brain for later use.

Another four days go by and he's at the LA Pride where he teams up with Cam and Leisha from Uh Huh Her. They came off stage little over an hour ago and now that they're backstage, they can all relax and have a decent drink, both in amount and in taste. Sasha has joined them along with other friends and life is good. They laugh, they chill, they perfect their acting-like-a-grownup-act, they drink. They’re having a good time. None of them are drunk, they have a little buzz going on for sure but one might as well live while they're young. So yes, as far as Tommy is concerned life is damn good.

Of course being a man implies Tommy has the bladder the size of a… Well, let's just say we all know what happens to guys when they start drinking - any type of fluids for that matter-  and right now his bladder is screaming bloody murder. Excusing himself from the company he makes his way to the john. On his walk over he passes some promo stand where they hand out water bottles to the artists. Water bottles with a goddamn sport cap and Jesus fucking Christ that is like putting milk in front of a kitten!

He back traces his steps, picks up a bottle and goes off doing his business. Having finished relieving himself, he pulls out his phone, switches on his camera, flips on the video mode and makes a test recoding. If he's going do this, he's going do this right which means his feet have to be in the damn thing. Satisfied with the outcome of the try-out, he positions himself for the actual shot. Holding the bottle the way he remembers, he presses play to start recording and squeezes the water bottle. It looks perfect! He watches the vid, just to be sure and he sure as hell got it on the first try! Already thinking about the _massive_ reactions this will provoke he bursts out laughing.

When he re-joins the gang he's still cracking himself up while fumbling his phone. "Dude?" Sasha asks. "Care to share man?" He can't, he's literally doubled up. Eventually, he catches his breath, wipes away the tears in his eyes, presses 'post' in Vine, looks up at everyone around him and simply says "Porto partay!”

Let the game begin and the comments roll in!  

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing it, hope you did too as you read it.


End file.
